


Things We Break and Things We Keep

by leoba



Series: Finnreylo Murder AU [5]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Jewish Ben Solo, M/M, Southern Cooking, death is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-29 06:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoba/pseuds/leoba
Summary: Finn and Ben bond over food and talk about their families.





	Things We Break and Things We Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessa/gifts).



> @Jessa requested more about Finn's background, so this is for her xo
> 
> Rated M for Mmmmmunderwear
> 
> This is probably for hard-core fans of the Finnreylo Murder AU only, but if you dig Finnlo you might like it even without that context (although there are mentions of Rey because they both loooove her).
> 
> There is no smut but there's a bit of kissing and a lot of yearning.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Finn is looking over his shoulder to where Ben stands in the doorway to the kitchen. There's loud metal music coming from the iPhone dock on the counter nearest the door, so Finn has to yell, and there are more utensils, containers and vegetables strewn across the counters and the surface of the kitchen island than there would normally be for a weekday meal. He's standing in front of the stove, using a knife to push what appear to be chopped onions off a cutting board into a large pot resting on a burner.

Ben's view of Finn is from the side, and he can see that aside from a white undershirt his boyfriend is wearing only a pair of black briefs. He looks really good, even under the harsh lights of the kitchen, but Ben's appreciation of his physical appearance is warring with a memory that emerged from the depths of Ben's brain the moment he walked in. He turns down the volume of the music and then speaks before thinking. "No, you're just... making me think of my mother, right now."

Finn, thoroughly amused, sets down the cutting board and turns to face Ben straight-on, knife still in-hand, chin held high, his mouth curving into a toothy smile. "Oh yeah?"

Ben blushes, and stares at the ground to avoid thinking about Finn in his underwear. He  _really_ doesn't want to think about Finn's underwear and his own mother at the same time.

Aaaaand there he goes.  _Goddammit_.

" _No_ , Finn, you know that's not what I mean." He inhales slowly, then exhales with a huff. "I had a sudden memory of my mother standing in the kitchen and cooking some big meal. High Holy Days I guess, that's the only time she really cooked much, she'd take time off work and everyone would come to our house, my grandparents, aunts and uncles. Kitchen. Cooking. All this stuff," he gestures around the room. "Where you were standing, I don't know. Just. Made me think of her." 

He's never talked about his family before with Finn, or with Rey for that matter, and it's not comfortable, but Finn seems to take pity on him as he relaxes his stance and softens his smile before turning back to the stove. 

Ben ambles over to stand next to him, puts his arm around his waist and kisses his cheek, watching him stir the onions that are just beginning to sizzle in the bottom of the pot. He runs his fingers under the hem of Finn's shirt to stroke his side gently, and the other man swats him away. "Don't tickle," he grumbles.

Sighing, Ben settles his hand on Finn's hip and kisses him again, resting his head on his shoulder. "Why aren't you wearing clothes? And why are you here so early? It's not even four."

Finn grins and makes his way to the sink, dragging Ben along with him, where he spoons some thick paste into a Pyrex cup of water. "I was at the wind farm in Amelia where I managed not to pitch headfirst off a turbine, instead I fell in the mud getting into my truck as I was leaving." He shakes his head. "My later afternoon job ended up being cancelled, thank goodness, so I just came home and threw my clothes in the washer, knew I'd be cooking so I didn't bother putting clothes back on." Ben's stomach clenches at the realization that Finn has just referred to his apartment as _home_ , but is distracted from this thought when Finn turns his head, his flawless brown eyes only inches from his own. "Why are  _you_ here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Ben gives Finn one last kiss, this one on his plump lips, and murmurs, "I'm glad you didn't fall off the turbine," then steps around the island to take a seat on one of the stools, shrugging out of his suit coat and depositing it on another stool while loosening his tie. "I was at court this morning and we had some things to finish up in the office after, but Gwen told me she'd do it and I should come home instead." More quietly he adds, "Things are a lot more laid-back there without Snoke." He exchanges a meaningful glance with Finn, but Finn doesn't say anything and goes back to stirring the onions. Ben sighs and runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes fall on a little drawing of him and Rey that she'd taped to one of the kitchen cabinets ("to keep Finn company while he cooks"). "Anyway. Gwen's been nicer to me since she found out about us. Maybe you're right, Finn, maybe she does like me okay."

Finn just smiles, walking to the fridge and pulling a quart-sized carton and a pack of what looks like chicken out onto the counter, and rips the plastic off the chicken with his hands. "What did your mom cook?"

Ben blows air out his nose and takes a moment to center himself. 

Their relationship started so oddly, they kind of skipped a bunch of the initial stuff and went right to Relationship Level Three, and never went back to fill in the blanks, including basic talk about where they grew up and information about their families. Ben avoids thinking about his own family, let alone talking about them, and although he doesn't know much about Rey's situation, just thinking about the bit he knows and how distraught she was when they met her makes him want to punch a wall. He has been curious about Finn's background, but he's hesitated to just  _ask_  because that would involve  _quid pro quo_ , Finn would want him to talk about his own family, and he just hasn't wanted to do that.

He's such a fucking  _asshole._

He focuses his eyes on the countertop. "She didn't cook much, because she wasn't around much. But when she did it was for holidays, just basic stuff I guess. Brisket, borscht, bagels and lox, although she didn't, like,  _make_ bagels, she'd order them from this one place in New York City. There was this honey cake she'd make for Rosh Hashanah, I didn't really like it but my grandmother brought the recipe with her from Russia so we kind of had to, you know. Family tradition." He looks up from where he's rubbing his palms on his thighs to see Finn gazing at him, _listening_ to him, and he swallows. "What about you? What did your mom cook for you?"

Finn looks down and pours the contents of the carton, something thick and white - buttermilk, Ben thinks - into a baking dish. "My parents died when I was six. Car accident. My mom was from Philadelphia and my dad was from Alabama. They met in college and I was born, in DC, just after they graduated. That always seemed terribly romantic to me. Anyway they both had big families, and after they died I was passed around for a few years - Alabama, then Ohio, then finally with my Nana in Philly. I moved in with her when I was ten and she basically raised me since. She's the one who did the cooking and taught me how to cook, too. Said I needed to be able to take care of myself and whoever else I might end up needing to take care of." 

Ben's chest constricts. It's pain that he doesn't know what to do with, and that leaves him feeling powerless. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry about your parents. I didn't know." 

Finn takes a moment to shake salt, pepper, and some red powder into the dish, then starts moving the pieces of raw chicken off of the foam tray, across the sink for a quick wash in the water dribbling out the tap, and into to the baking dish. He shrugs. "I didn't tell you, you didn't ask. We have this weird thing," he waves his fingers, slimy from chicken and buttermilk, "We did everything out of order. Fucking before we learned to talk." He gives Ben a tired smile. "It is what it is. Anyway, she's a great cook. We had a lot of family in the neighborhood, aunts and uncles and cousins, and Nana'd cook for everybody. Like your mom it was pretty basic, traditional stuff: fried chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese," he levels a look at Ben, " _real_ mac and cheese, not that Kraft shit. Corn bread." He gestures around the room. "Everything I'm making here today, in fact."

Ben is pleased but confused. "What's the special occasion though? This looks like an awful lot of food for just three people."

"We'll have lots of leftovers, and I can bring some for the Knights on Sunday. I'm making plans and feeling nostalgic." Ben tenses up at the mention of  _plans_ , but if Finn notices he doesn't let on. He continues breezily, "Every summer since I left for college, I go back home for a couple weeks in August. To see Nana, my uncles and aunts, and a few cousins who've stayed in town."

"That sounds really nice." Ben means it, too. Finn speaks about his family with open joy, and Ben finds it refreshing compared with how he thinks of his own family. Even with profound loss, it sounds like Finn has a strong system of love and support. Watching him absorbed in his task of washing and dishing the chicken, Ben finds himself wanting to know more. He wants to know everything about Finn. "So, you grew up with your grandmother?"

Finn looks confused for a moment, then his expression clears and he smiles fondly. "Nana! No, she's not my grandma, she's my mom's aunt. She was the youngest of eight kids, my grandma was the oldest. Nana's only ten years older than my mom. Anyway, I've been trying to schedule this summer's trip and I just got my time off approved, so I'll be heading up there for a bit in August." He washes his hands, having fit the last of the chicken in the dish. "You and Rey gonna be okay without me?"

Ben's brain halts, just for a moment, then slowly chugs back to life. _Two whole weeks alone with Rey_. They have spent Sundays alone together, and occasional evenings, but usually Finn is there and the dynamic is definitely different with him in the mix. Finn talks, and takes care, and takes charge, which is great but also leads to a certain amount of dependency on his and Rey's part, however unintended. Ben knows that neither he nor Rey have a lot of experience with love (and learning even a bit about Finn's family provides new context for his emotional wisdom), but there is something nice about the time they have spent together, learning how to communicate without Finn acting as intermediary. It's exciting, and fun, and sometimes they argue but he finds it impossible to get angry with her, even when she raises her voice at him. There's also the fact that, as Finn might say, she's _hot_ , and with so much time to explore her body on his own he just might learn a new thing or two. He loves Rey so much that it physically hurts him sometimes, and the thought of having so much time alone with her is terrifying, but also thrilling.

As Ben considers this, Finn pulls a beer from the fridge and hands it to him, taking one for himself. He twists off the top and takes a sip and tries his best to sound cool. "Thanks Finn. And yeah, I think we'll be fine. A good chance for us to get to know each other better, right?"

Finn lifts his own beer and winks. "Cheers. That's what I was thinking too. I'll miss you guys like hell, but it'll be good for you, and I am really looking forward to seeing my family." 

"Do you get along with them?" Ben asks, pushing the bottle cap around the countertop with the tip of his finger.

Finn takes a smaller pot from a cabinet and puts it under the tap. "Most of them, I guess. I have a pretty big family though, all spread out, and you're never gonna get along with  _everyone_. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and my parents are gone, so for me it's been about managing the uncles and aunts and various groups of cousins." As Finn talks he puts the pot on a back burner, then putters around, adding the contents of the Pyrex container to the pot of onions, along with water from the pot filler coming out of the wall, and pulling more ingredients out of the fridge. "The groups of cousins are all a little different, southern kids and northern, country and city. I know the ones in Philly the best, obviously, because I grew up with them. My mom was from there, I think I said, she grew up just down the street from where I ended up; a lot of family still lives in the neighborhood. The older ones, at least, the ones who haven't left."

Ben picks along the edge of the label on his beer bottle. "Have you told your Nana about us?" Finn is quiet as he covers the dish of chicken with plastic wrap and moves it into the fridge. "Sweetheart?"

Finn stops puttering and takes a long draught of his own beer. He's nervous, just a little, and can't make eye contact with Ben. He looks at the floor instead. "I told my cousin Mel. She's 25 too, grew up down the block, probably the closest thing I have to a sister. She's down at Tulane now working on an MFA in Textile Arts, of all things. She made that crocheted hood thing I gave Rey." He shakes his head and takes another quick swig. "Anyway. She recommended that I wait and tell Nana when I'm there, and I think she's right. Just because... it's kind of a lot, you know. I didn't date in High School, if you can believe it, I was in all the AP classes, getting the best grades so I could go to the best college and get the best degree. I think Nan still thinks of me as that super nerdy sixteen year old. I don't think she thinks about me dating, she's never even asked, and if I told her over the phone that I had a girlfriend  _and_ a boyfriend, I just don't know." 

He stops talking and finally looks at Ben, but Ben doesn't have anything to say to that. He has no idea what his own mother and dad would say if they found out he was in love with Finn and Rey. He smiles, though, and teases, "To be fair you're still pretty nerdy."

Finn snaps his own bottlecap at Ben and laughs. "Okay, fair enough. How about your family, Ben?" His expression is curious as he picks up an enormous bowl of leaves and starts dropping them into the larger pot that is now boiling on the stove.

Ben takes a deep breath. _Quid pro quo_. He can do this. "I grew up not far from here actually, went to High School over in Caswell. I was also born in DC, when my mom was in law school, but my parents moved here when I was about four. My dad owned and operated a logistics company, like trucking, shipping stuff around the country. My mom had various appointments in our district of the Federal Court of Appeals, but they bought a house here and she commuted because they didn't want to live all the way in the city. I guess she thought it would be better for me, growing up, out here in the country." As Ben has been talking, Finn has taken another beer out of the fridge, opened it, and set it in front of him, trading it for his empty bottle. He takes a swig.

"I'm sure that seemed like a good idea to  _her_ , but it meant I didn't see her much, because she was coming home late and leaving early, and sometimes she'd just spend the night there. And my dad was busy with his business. When I was really little he just managed the drivers, so it wasn't like he wasn't there, but he was really hands-on, insisted on doing a lot of the work himself instead of delegating it. And when I got older he did some driving, would leave me with my uncles or babysitters a few times a month, just because he liked the open road, liked being by himself."

He stops to take a drink and Finn places the last of the leaves in the pot. "I hear not wanting to delegate. Not the other stuff though. It sounds to me like they weren't there for you." Ben glances up at Finn, notes the hard line of his shoulders, and understands that he is  _angry_. He's angry on Ben's behalf, and this makes him feel better. Finn opens the dishwasher and drops in the bowl, closes it almost too delicately, and takes a deep breath. "Sorry, baby, I didn't mean to interrupt."

Ben takes a deep drink, because this next part is hard for him. "My dad left when I was ten. My parents used to fight a lot, at night, because that was when my mom was home. I'd wake up, get out of bed and hide in my closet and pretend I was somewhere else, or someone else. Sometimes he would leave, jump in his old car and drive away, but he always came back. Until one time, he didn't." He hasn't thought about this in a long time, but it still hurts. He closes his eyes and hears Finn move, feels his arms wrap around him from behind, his chin on his shoulder.

His voice is deep and rumbles through Ben's back. "That was a fucking stupid thing for him to do, Ben. I'm so sorry." 

Ben wipes the tears out of his eyes and is thankful that Finn is standing behind him. Although he's seen Finn cry, has held him while he cried while Rey wiped tears off his face, for some reason he doesn't want Finn to see him cry. And it seems like Finn knows this, and is okay with it. 

Ben loves him so much. He wants to tell him everything, every stupid thing he's ever done.

After a moment Finn pushes his hair aside and kisses his neck, then lets go and shuffles back to the stove, grabbing the box of macaroni on his way.

Ben clears his throat and takes another drink. "After my dad left things got worse. My uncle moved in, that's my mom's twin brother, and she started spending more nights in the city. I missed both of my parents, so much, and my uncle was kind of a loner so he wasn't able to give me what I needed. I couldn't talk to him, he wouldn't hug me or talk to me except to talk about how I was doing at school. It pissed me off because he worked in Legal Aid, basically providing pro bono defense for people who can't pay, so he was out there worrying about all these random people but he couldn't be bothered to be home, worrying about  _me_." 

There's a loud  _thwack_ and Ben's attention is brought back to Finn, who has just deposited the box of macaroni noodles onto the countertop in a most enthusiastic manner. His muscles are tensed and as Ben watches him he flares his nostrils. Ben appreciates Finn's love and loyalty in these moments more than he can possibly express. He settles for looking into Finn's eyes and giving him the best smile he can, which isn't much, but which Finn returns. He walks over to Ben and gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then places his hands gently on either side of Ben's face. "You didn't deserve any of that, Ben." Finn's close, looking into his eyes, and Ben can feel his breath, warm and beery and sweet. "You were, you are, more valuable than that. You are treasure. You understand me?" Ben hums, and lifts his chin, angling his mouth for Finn to kiss him - which he does.

Ben is raw from sharing about his family, and has been affected by Finn's body since the moment he entered the kitchen, so he welcomes Finn's mouth and opens his own, seeking the other man's tongue, placing his bottle on the counter and wrapping his arms around his torso, shifting to the edge of the stool and pulling him between his knees. As Finn runs his fingers though Ben's hair, Ben moves his own hands up to Finn's shoulders, down his back, and caresses his waist, putting his hands up his shirt and taking note of the firm muscles along his obliques and the soft, smooth skin that covers them. When his hands move down to Finn's ass and he squeezes it, pulling him between his thighs, spread wide in anticipation, Finn fists his hands in Ben's hair but pulls away his mouth and body, and sighs. "Not now, baby. I need to finish cooking, and I'm enjoying talking to you, finding out about you."

Ben is distraught. "But I want... I want..." Finn kisses him again softly and says, "I know baby," and then Ben realizes Finn is wiping tears from his eyes, placing sweet kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. He finds he doesn't care as much about this naked display of emotion as he thought he would even a few minutes ago. He focuses on Finn's eyes and can't help but notice the pupils blown wide, hear Finn's labored breath, and he takes some comfort knowing his boyfriend is not unaffected; he just has better self-control.

Finn rubs Ben's lower lip gently with his thumb, and whispers, "Later, okay? When Rey is here. We can be together tonight." Ben can't argue with this logic, and calms down at the mention of their girlfriend, their other third. One more sweet kiss and Finn steps back into the heart of the kitchen.

They spend the next couple of minutes in relatively comfortable silence. Ben has finished his second beer and is contemplating the wisdom of having a third when Finn swears, and then calls to him. "Ben, can you help me out? There's a ham hock in there I forgot to put in the greens, can you grab it for me? Oh, and the milk while you're at it." 

The milk is easy to spot but Ben doesn't know what a ham hock looks like. Since Finn entered his life Ben doesn't pay much attention to the contents of the fridge, but he remembers the location of the meat drawer well enough. He pulls out a likely candidate, something yellow and pink and wrapped in plastic, and places it on the counter next to the stove, where the pot of greens is bubbling happily.

"Thanks, man," says Finn, and then, "Oh shit!" He looks at Ben, then at the ham hock, then back at Ben. "Oh no, baby, I didn't know you were Jewish. I feed you pork all the time. I'm so sorry, you should have told me." He looks so upset and Ben is trying not to laugh. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, really it is. I haven't eaten kosher in years, there's a lot of rules and they're hard to keep up with. I'm pretty lapsed, honestly, I haven't been in a synagogue in ages. Believe me, I'd have told you if it was important to me." He almost adds, _If my mom ever comes over, we'll have to be careful_ but catches himself before he actually says it. Thoughts of his family have really drilled themselves deeply into his brain, and the beer is only making it worse.

Ben helps himself to a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge and attempts to shift the conversation back to Finn.

"You go to church? Not every week, obviously."

Finn laughs at this, hard, throwing his head back and wiping his eyes when he's done. "Rey told you about that, didn't she. That did make me smile. Rey, man." And he releases a small, sweet sigh and drifts, just a bit, before focusing back on Ben. "Anyway, I was raised Baptist, went every single Sunday, dressed up in my fancy big-boy suit. I go now when I'm home, and on Christmas and Easter. I try to make it back for those holidays, too, although that doesn't always happen."

The thought of little Finn in a suit fills Ben with joy. The thought of a big Finn in a suit does likewise, but in a different way. "Do you own a suit now? I'd like to see that. I'd like to see pictures of you as a kid, for that matter, you must've been the cutest thing."

Finn blushes and unwraps the hock, dropping it into the pot of greens. "Maybe I'll get some pictures when I'm home. Once I tell Nana I have someone to show them to I have no doubt she'll give me as many as I ask for. I don't have a proper suit now, not like yours," he says, looking Ben up and down in a way that makes him feel warm. "Nana doesn't mind if I dress down for church these days, she's just glad to have me there."

Ben's feeling good, much better than he thought he would when the conversation started. "Your family sounds so great, Finn. Have you told Rey about them?" 

Finn pulls the flour bin out of an upper cabinet. "A little, yeah. And she's told me some stuff about hers." He measures some flour and sets it aside, then drops a stick of butter into yet another pan resting on a front burner of the stove. "Have you talked to her about this family stuff?"

Ben shakes his head and takes a sip of water. "I haven't asked about hers, and she hasn't asked me. So, no." But he's not being honest; the truth is that she's very likely tried. She's not as direct as Finn, able to open up herself, or just ask Ben about his family, but she's certainly made overtures, indicated that she's interested in knowing his history. But he's shut that down, because he doesn't want her to think he's shallow, and he'd much rather kiss her than talk about his parents, so that's what he does. He takes her vague expressions of interest in his past and turns them into sex. And he hasn't asked her about her childhood because of the _quid pro quo_ , but also because he's assumed it's too painful for her to talk about it.

He feels like an asshole again.

"The truth is that I don't want to talk with Rey about my family. I mean, you just heard my sob story. I didn't have a great childhood, but it wasn't terrible. Even so I've never forgiven my dad for leaving, or my mom for abandoning me to my uncle, or my uncle for being so fucking useless." He clenches his fists for a moment. "He was busy with his own shit and couldn't really handle me, especially when I got to be about fifteen. I was just so _angry_ , Finn, I'd get in fights at school, that kind of thing." Thinking of his teen years brings another thought to the front of his mind, one that he recognizes he needs to mention to Finn... but not  _now_ because that would be distracting. Later.

"BUT," he says, starting to pace the end of the kitchen and looking over at Finn, stirring flour into the butter on the stove but with his eyes on Ben, actively listening, "But at least I  _have_ a family, and I never doubted my parents loved me, even when they fucked up and fucked me up too. I had a home, and money, and food and education and all that shit. That's important. I don't know much about what Rey's been through but I know she never had a family, at least not one that was worth a damn, I know that foster care was bad for her, that she's probably been through shit I can't even imagine. I mean, she's such a good soul, she wouldn't have done what she did if she had any other option."

Finn nods and mutters "Amen."

Ben clears his throat. "So it feels really petty to moan on about it. I don't want her to hear me complaining. I'm afraid she'll think I'm shallow, and unappreciative of what I have, and I don't want her to think that about me. Does that make sense?"

Finn inclines his head thoughtfully, then indicates the pot of pasta on the stove. "Can you drain that for me? I think it's ready." Ben grabs a potholder off the counter and takes the pot, draining the macaroni into the colander already waiting in the sink. After giving it a quick rinse he transfers it back into the pot and places it back on the stove. 

Finn continues to stir the roux, thoughtful and quiet, his eyebrows drawn together, a small frown marring his handsome face. Ben sits back on the stool and just watches him: pouring milk into the roux, trading the wooden spoon for a metal whisk, stirring and stirring. He finally replies slowly. "Baby, it's not a zero-sum game and we're not in competition with each other. We all have shit that hurt us. Your pain at feeling neglected by your parents isn't any less valid than hers, or mine. It's different situations, with a variety of possible responses from us as individuals and possible outcomes based on forces outside of our control. I was lucky enough to have a support system ready to take me in when my parents died, so I grew up knowing I was loved. You had money, but not love and support, and that's had a serious impact on your outlook. Rey didn't get money _or_ support, but she's still grown into a wonderful person because she's _Rey_ , and she pushed through everything that could have held her back. She's so fucking strong she destroyed the one thing that continued to stand in her way, and she's going to go on to live a wonderful life. And we all have each other, too, moving forward. In another universe this could have turned out very differently. But it didn't, and we're here, together, now."

Ben's heart is in his throat. "It makes so much sense, when you say it like that. I've been avoiding talking about my family with Rey because I was afraid of hurting her, but that kept me from letting her talk to me, which could help her. And she could help me, too." He puts his elbows on the counter, and his head in his hands. "God, I'm such an asshole."

Finn pauses from dumping handfuls of grated cheese into the sauce and say to him gently, "You're human, babe. And you're Ben, so maybe you are a bit of an asshole." Ben looks up to see him smiling, and he smiles too. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tulane doesn't have an MFA in Textile Arts](https://liberalarts.tulane.edu/departments/art/academics/graduate/studio-art), but this is fanfic so I can do what I want. Mel is based on the lovely and talented [lilithenaltum](http://lilithenaltum.tumblr.com).
> 
> The title is a reference to both "breaking tradition" and "keeping tradition".
> 
> I know this ends very suddenly but I'm so tired of writing I just wanted to get it out. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it gets to the background of Finn and Ben, and gives them some time together one-on-one, which we haven't had yet. Not the most exciting story in the series, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to [galactic-jewce-box](https://galactic-jewce-box.tumblr.com) for helping me around the ham hock bit. I'm neither Black nor Jewish but I am trying to do my best with both of these characters, so if you have comments or suggestions please let me know!
> 
> I'm leofgyth on Tumblr, come and say hi!


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